


Unfailing

by sciencefictioness



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drunk Jack, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 16:31:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: The ground rocks underneath him like he’s on a boat on rough seas.  The room spins— not enough to have him stumbling, but he’s weaving a bit, maybe.  It’s fine, he’s fine.  The music is too loud, and there’s too many people but that’s… that’s nothing new.Any amount of people is too many.He’s got one palm flattened out on the wall to steady himself as he walks forward, the other hand curled around a red plastic cup, harsh smelling amber liquid sloshing over his fingers.  Someone, somewhere, is talking to him— Jack, I think you should sit down— and they’re right, he should, but he’s not going to listen.Jack’s on a mission.He only has to make it another couple of yards.  One foot in front of the other, easy does it, until he lets go of the wall to grab onto a man’s shoulder.  There’s soft flannel under his palm, brown hair brushing his knuckles; the man turns and grins.  Bright white teeth, soft pink lips, beautiful dark eyes.Jack makes a noise in his throat.  Can’t help it.This guy’s the hottest thing Jack has ever seen.The man’s smile goes wider, and he chuckles low, looking at Jack with a fond sort of indulgence.“Am I, now?”





	Unfailing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for shearouttaluck for the mc76 secret santa! I hope you like it!

The ground rocks underneath him like he’s on a boat on rough seas.  The room spins— not enough to have him stumbling, but he’s weaving a bit, maybe.  It’s fine, he’s fine. The music is too loud, and there’s too many people but that’s… that’s nothing new.  

 

Any amount of people is too many.

 

He’s got one palm flattened out on the wall to steady himself as he walks forward, the other hand curled around a red plastic cup, harsh smelling amber liquid sloshing over his fingers.  Someone, somewhere, is talking to him—  _ Jack, I think you should sit down—  _ and they’re right, he should, but he’s not going to listen.  

 

Jack’s on a mission.

 

He only has to make it another couple of yards.  One foot in front of the other, easy does it, until he lets go of the wall to grab onto a man’s shoulder.  There’s soft flannel under his palm, brown hair brushing his knuckles; the man turns and grins. Bright white teeth, soft pink lips, beautiful dark eyes.

 

Jack makes a noise in his throat.  Can’t help it.

 

This guy’s the hottest thing Jack has ever  _ seen. _

 

The man’s smile goes wider, and he chuckles low, looking at Jack with a fond sort of indulgence.

 

“Am I, now?”  

 

It takes Jack a moment to realize he must have said all that out loud.  He nods, lifting his cup to take another sip except— it’s empty, now, and he frowns at it accusingly before dropping it to the floor.  Turns his attention back to the man— to the cowboy, with his worn out hat and his cowboy boots and his  _ ass,  _ in those  _ jeans,  _ oh my  _ god.   _

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” the cowboy laughs, and Jack’s talking out loud again without meaning to, “I think you’ve had enough, don’t you?”

 

Jack shakes his head dismissively, trying to focus on the cowboy’s face, trying to let the words sink in.

 

_ Oh, sweetheart. _

 

Jack wants to listen to this man call him sweetheart for the rest of his life.  He’s got a beard, and it’s— groomed, and clean, and it would feel really nice rubbing against the inside of Jack’s thighs, and— Jack shuts his mouth, very deliberately, to stop it from running.  

 

“I’ll be fine in a few minutes, I, I’m,”  _ don’t talk about SEP, Jack, not to a stranger, just,  _ “I’ve got a fast metabolism.  S’okay,” he slurs, and the cowboy cocks up one eyebrow in amusement.

 

“Hmmm.  Fast metabolism, huh?”

 

Jack nods, sliding his palm over the cowboy’s shoulder until it’s resting on the warm skin of his neck.  He eases his fingertips under the collar, just a little, Jack— Jack needs to feel, wants to wrap his arms around the man, press in tight against him, wants to— 

 

“Wanna dance with you,” he says, free hand coming up to pet over the man’s chest, sliding greedily across his pectoral, “wanna… what’s your name?”

 

The cowboy’s eyes go wide, and lifts a hand to his mouth; trying to stifle his laughter, pass it off as a yawn.  He sets down his drink to put both hands on Jack’s hips, one hand sneaking under the back of his shirt, the other closing over Jack’s belt.

 

“My name’s Jesse.”  He drawls. Tugs Jack in, and Jack goes, lets Jesse pull him close.  “What about you? Wanna tell me your name, pretty boy?”

 

Pretty boy.  Jack wants to argue— he hasn’t been a pretty boy in a long, long time, but it sounds nice coming from Jesse, all slow and drawn out.  He’s already flushed from the whiskey; hopes that’ll be enough to hide his blush, the way the compliment gets him flustered.

 

“Jack.  I’m Jack, I-  I wanna dance with you, Jesse.”

 

Jesse hums, and slips his hand higher, fingertips tracing over a scar on Jack’s back.  It should make him self conscious— something knee-jerk, something automatic— but the anxiety never rises.  

 

“Think you might be a little unsteady for dancin’, Jackie.”

 

_ Jackie. _

 

Jack wants him to say it again, wants to hear his name in Jesse’s voice.  Needs to be ready, to brace himself against it, to-

 

“You alright, Jack?”

 

Thing is, Jack doesn’t even like dancing in front of other people.  He just wants to get his hands on Jesse, wants to feel the way he moves.  He falters, and Jesse steadies him, keeping him on his feet.

 

“You’re here alone, right?  Let me… dance with me. Let me take you home.  You’re so.... god, and you… I bet you smell so good, can I just-”

 

Jack lists forward and tucks his face in Jesse’s throat.  Breathes in deep, Jesse’s fingers sifting through his hair, and he was right; Jesse smells amazing.  There are faint traces of smoke, but mostly it’s woodsy cologne and fresh deodorant, something floral lingering in the fabric of his shirt.  Jack hums, pleased, and tries to press his nose tighter into Jesse’s skin where it meets his collar.

 

“Mmmm, s’nice.”

 

Jesse’s laugh rumbles through him and into Jack, and he’s so warm, and Jack wants to crawl in bed with him and never leave.

 

“Thanks, baby.  I’m not here alone though.  Came with my husband.”

 

The noise Jack makes is pathetic.  Something between a whine and groan, and Jack shakes his head, and wraps his arms tight around Jesse’s shoulders.  

 

“No, no you didn’t,” he argues, fisting his fingers in Jesse’s clothes, holding on.  “You’re… you’re by yourself, ‘n you’re gonna dance with me, and then we’re- gonna go home, and I’m-  I’m gonna kiss you, just. Everywhere. If you let me. Please let me,” Jack adds, desperation edging into his voice.

 

He can’t put into words just how grief stricken he is at the thought of Jesse being married to someone else.  It pulls on his guts; nauseates him, like he might actually be sick. It feels wrong. Jack doesn’t like it. 

 

Jesse tugs him slowly into the middle of the room.  Finds Jack’s left hand, and carefully, carefully extricates it from his clothes, and— and this is it, this is where Jack gets told to fuck off and keep his hands to himself, and— Jesse holds Jack’s hand up in front of his face.

 

There’s a ring there, sitting on the third finger of his left hand.  A wedding band, clearly, and Jack frowns at it, head cocked to the side.  Nothing weird about that, of course he has a wedding band, he’s married to-

 

_ “Jesse,”  _ he mutters, collapsing into him eagerly, “we’re married, Jesse.”

 

Jesse hums again, pulling Jack into his arms.  They’re swaying to the music. Not dancing, really, but it’s as much as Jack can muster right now, and it’s more than enough.

 

“We sure are, honey.”

 

They sure are.  Jack tucks his face into Jesse’s chest, and dances.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me nice things!


End file.
